


Together Apart

by AryaGEN



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Post-Episode: s03e10 Maveth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:47:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6030292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AryaGEN/pseuds/AryaGEN
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Coulson and Fitz fight while Jemma and co. watch from the server room, or how Jemma finds about a Will. Now with a Chapter 2 by quasi-popular demand :)<br/>Post Maveth Two Shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Had this idea kicking about for a while now about how Simmons should find out about Will's fate, and how Fitz should react to Coulson - this was the result.

Simmons clutched her stomach, despairing. It had been three days since the team’s return from England and an uncomfortable tenseness had settled across the Playground. Neither Fitz nor Coulson had spoken of what happened in the other world with the exception of Coulson’s terse debrief that both Ward and Will were dead and he would elaborate in due course. One look at the exhausted and battered pair should have been enough to warn anyone away from pressing for details but that first night Jemma tried to push Fitz about Will, for closure. She grieved for Will, for the unjustness of his fate and their life together, but part of her couldn’t help feeling relieved that she wouldn’t have to see a constant living reminder of her time on the other planet, that she and Fitz could finally begin to put everything behind them and have that conversation they still hadn’t had since they were under the ocean. Under normal circumstances she could’ve screamed in frustration but wracked as she was with guilt over Will, over Fitz and over the countless Inhumans who had and would die because she released Lash, she barely had the energy to keep crying.

 

Will was her rescuer, companion and – well she had thought she loved him, at least while she was on the other planet anyway. She owed it to the memory of him to find out what happened; whether Fitz had found his body months old or whether they’d met and Fitz had watched him die… or worse yet if he was still alive even now and Coulson had simply said he was dead because he wouldn’t risk going back again. After all, it’s not as though the Director hadn’t kept secrets from them before and that would give some explanation as to why Fitz seemed so furious at him. Even as the team had strapped in for the flight back to America, anger had radiated off of Fitz in waves; he wouldn’t make eye contact with anybody – not even her. After their initial embrace he had become tense and unresponsive, retreating into himself and she found incredulously the rejection hurt almost as much as the news that Will was dead; she guessed somewhere she always knew Will hadn’t made it out of the storm – ever since she heard his gun firing.

 

To say that Fitz reacted frostily to her line of questioning would be an understatement; when she cornered him on the way to his bunk in the Playground he simply shook his head and walked away. It had been three days and they’d hardly spoken since; then again, she had hardly spoken to anyone since. When her feet had taken her to the Lab on the second day he, seemingly flustered over the computer monitors, made the effort to shoot her a smile – even if it wasn’t convincing. She didn’t understand how she had missed how gaunt he’d become since before she was sucked into the monolith, and compared to their usual sharp blue his eyes now seemed a sort of dull and lifeless grey. Even when she had told him that she was there for him, that if he needed to talk she would listen he just nodded before finding a reason to be anywhere but by her side. She, like him, had barely slept, her weeping for Will’s still-unknown-to-her fate and from the pain of feeling utterly alone without Fitz beside her and him, well he wouldn’t tell her why.

 

That morning, the third after they were back she had found Fitz in the Lab, she didn’t have to smell the liquor on him to know that he was drunk – which, despite his Scottish heritage, was unusual for him. She practically recoiled as though stung when he didn’t acknowledge her presence, instead he simply poured over footage from the castle in England like a man possessed; desperate to find something. Desperately trying to bridge the gap between them she’d even offered to help him despite her own shattered emotional state but he’d shied away, the distance between them seemed to hurt her physically; she tried to convince herself that maybe he was just trying to give her space to grieve but one look at him and she knew it wasn’t that. He was like a man possessed.

 

Something was driving him, haunting him and it wasn’t just her he was avoiding but Coulson as well. One of the lab assistants had obviously told the Director about Fitz’s state for he turned up that morning as well. When Coulson arrived at the lab Fitz had refused to look at him, screwing his hands into fists so tight his knuckles shone white and his nails drew blood. She found herself flinching when Coulson, seemingly oblivious to the fury Fitz was barely restraining, put his one hand on the young scientist’s shoulder to comfort him. Fitz for his part veered on the Director like a cornered animal, eyes wide in emotion so powerful she couldn’t even begin to think what would make him react that way; for the briefest moment she thought he would actually strike Coulson but instead he just kicked one of the cabinets and stormed off.

 

And so, despairing in the simmering Playground atmosphere, Simmons stirred her cup of tea wondering if she would be able to make it back to her room unaccosted by either Daisy of Mack who seemed to linger near the door ready to offer her a heart to heart. It wasn’t that she wasn’t grateful for their willingness to help, she was; she just found it overwhelming. Just as she was about to try to sneak passed them she heard a loud bang and an alarm ring out from down the corridor – from the direction of the Lab. The mug of tea she had made slipped from her fingers and shattered on the ground as she sprinted to the source of the noise, pursued almost immediately by Daisy and Mack. She found herself running through every possibility that could have caused that loud a noise and hoping selfishly that it wasn’t Fitz in the Lab at the time but just one of their science team he was so fond of yelling at. In her sheer panic she didn’t register how heartless that was.

 

It came as some relief when Jemma heard Fitz’s voice, unravelling the tension that had immediately knotted in her stomach at the idea that he could be seriously hurt. Nevertheless she was desperate to see him, to check with her own eyes he was fine and was just about to reach the Lab when a strong arm caught her around her waist and Daisy pulled her back. Clamping her other hand over Simmons’ mouth Daisy whispered harshly into her ear, “If you want answers come with me.”

 

Jemma struggled blindly for a few moments but, feeling nausea and numb exhaustion overtake her, gave up her futile resistance and let Daisy pull her into a server room adjacent to the lab. Within seconds of letting go of her Daisy flew to the monitors and loaded up security feeds from the Lab, Fitz’s image swimming into view almost immediately. For the first few seconds the video was silent and appeared to show Coulson and Fitz squaring off with one another, shoulders set back and in a heated argument – the room was only slightly smoky. “One moment,” Daisy said, concentrating as the audio came on followed by a satisfied, “Got it.”

 

“I know what I saw!” Fitz’s voice was loud and forceful, only slightly distorted by being played through speakers. It was laced with a dangerous anger that made Jemma’s jaw tense involuntarily; she hadn’t heard him like this before and it made her knees weaken at the thought of what could have done this to him.

 

“He’s dead Fitz, he’s dead and he’s not coming back.” Coulson snapped back at him, his own usually controlled demeanour lifted and an equally dangerous tone coming off him.

 

“He’s already here!” Fitz roared, frustration evident in his tone, “And what - you think he’s just going to stay quiet forever? No, he is going to come here and kill all of us!” Jemma didn’t think she had ever heard him so scared in his life – there was a primal terror in his voice that shook her. She was vaguely aware that Daisy and Mack’s eyes were on her but she couldn’t bring her own from the monitor. She also didn’t know when she had stepped so closely to it.

 

“Fitz–” Coulson tried to interrupt but Fitz kept yelling at him, loud enough that she would probably have been able to have heard them from the Lab if not for the alarm.

 

“And thanks to you there’s not a damned thing we can do to stop him!” Fitz was panting heavily as he punched something in the lab before pressing his hands up against his head and then moving to disable the alarm, evidently as frustrated as Jemma at the high pitched ringing.

 

“I get it Fitz, what happened over there – it shouldn’t have gone down that way.” Coulson attempted to reason with the young scientist while he finished switching off the alarm, the silence came as a welcome relief to everyone, “but we need your mind here… now.” Coulson tried to put his single hand on Fitz’s shoulder but he shook him off just like when she had seen happen this morning, Jemma could tell the move had rattled the Director, who carried on regardless, “Jemma needs you.”

 

“Jemma?” Fitz said in little more than a whisper, something about the way he said it made Simmons’ heart feel like it was going to burst – he sounded so raw with emotion.

 

“We all do, this division can’t function without you Fitz.” He said looking around him at the Lab, not for the first time Jemma felt guilty about leaving so much up to Fitz to manage – even if her six months in hell weren’t her choice he still shouldn’t have had to deal with it practically on his own, even with Bobbi trying to help. Coulson gave a half laugh and lifted up the stump of his arm, “ _I_ can’t function without you.”

 

Fitz was silent for a few moments and Jemma found herself taking a step closer to the monitor, as though somehow willing herself to be closer to him. When he spoke his voice was cautious, uneasy. “I’m not building you another one, not after what you did.”

 

“Fitz-” Coulson began but was immediately cut off.

 

“No.” Fitz spat out venomously. Jemma had to wonder what the hell had happened on the other planet to make him act this way.

 

“Agent,” Coulson began in an authoritative tone, Jemma and Fitz seemed to flinch in unison – pulling rank had never been an effective way to get Fitz to do something he didn’t want to do.

 

“Don’t,” Fitz warned at him, “Don’t even…”

 

“As Director…” Coulson said confidently, not realising he’d made a tactical misjudgement until Fitz laughed coldly.

 

“Director!?” He scoffed, “You’d still be over there if not for me.”

 

“You’d be dead if not for me.” Coulson shot back, temper seemingly reignited. Jemma felt herself hold one of the server columns for support at the idea of Fitz being killed over there.

 

“Well I guess it’s just a matter of time now! You could have just left him there and he would have died after we crossed back.” Fitz walked back over to confront Coulson with a confidence in the face of his superior that Simmons found surprising, “But no, because of what you’ve done, he’s back – with _it_!”

 

In the corridor outside Hunter and Bobbi rushed towards the Lab, stopped by Mack who led them silently into server room to watch the feed. Hunter, seeing the secrecy about everyone, whispered oddly loudly, “What the hell is going on?” Daisy silenced them both and pointed towards the monitor. Jemma hardly noticed.

 

“It?” Coulson questioned, voice still edged in anger but he was seemingly confused as well, “Fitz what are you talking about?”

 

“It!” Fitz yelled infuriated that Coulson wasn’t following, “The _thing_ – the first Inhuman, Death-it’s-bloody-self or whatever the hell you want to call it if not _It_!” Fitz shouted, he was swaying on his feet exhausted, drunk and… _hurt…_ Jemma realised. Her stomach plummeted at the idea he – _her Fitz_ – had been anywhere near whatever it was she saw in the storm but it was the rasping in Fitz’s breath that made her feel truly sick.

 

“Fitz,” Coulson said, taking a step forward and beginning to sound more like his usual self, “You saw it? What Jemma described – the being Gideon wanted?”

 

“In the flesh,” Fitz said coldly, pausing for a moment before pressing on “You did too – the man you shot, that _thing_ after me _.”_ She could see him clench his whole body as he talked and not for the first time she wanted to run the short distance from the servers to the Lab and bring him into a fierce embrace. At the same time, she couldn’t face not seeing him – if only for a brief moment.

_“_ He kept getting back up.” Coulson finished as though piecing something together in his mind, he took a step back and visibly deflated as he came to grips with this new information – eventually stating, “He kept getting back up and he wasn’t wearing a vest.”

 

“No… he wasn’t.” Fitz confirmed and a charged silence descended between the two of them. Jemma wondered if this was their queue to stop spying on the two of them and go and report to the Lab, at this point it was beginning to look suspicious nobody had responded to the alarm – fortunately Coulson broke the silence.

 

“But you destroyed the first Inhuman then, I saw it burn.” Coulson said, partly appraisingly but also clearly not quite grasping what was going on – a feeling Jemma certainly empathised with; her own confusion at what Fitz had done that had left him so broken reaching boiling point.

 

“Thousands of years…” Fitz said suddenly with an expression on his face that Jemma would recognise anywhere – it was the same expression he wore every time he was about to make a break through on an invention, his whole demeanour shifted as he dropped his anger in favour of pursuing whatever it was that had caught his imagination. “Thousands of years…”

 

“Fitz?” Coulson asked cautiously but doesn’t press him when Fitz holds out his hand to indicate he’s thinking.

 

“This creature, whatever it is – it’s an Inhuman, the first Inhuman, right?” He said although it was clear from his tone he wasn’t expecting an answer, Jemma doubted he was really aware he was talking to Coulson at this point and more just thinking aloud, “But it was banished thousands of years ago… Inhumans are part alien, part human – human tissue can’t possibly survive that long but the alien part, well who knows how long that can keep going for? Simmons said it felt like this being had largely lost its power but what if it hadn’t lost its power, just its corporeal human form? She saw it appear to her as one of the astronauts Will was with, that’s what the sacrifices are! They give the alien part a host don’t you see – it doesn’t need to feed on them, it needs a host – some sort of neucrotic human flesh to substitute its own older form, it’s a parasite – it needs a body to survive!” He finished excited at his own discovery, but his voice turned dark as he shifted his focus back on Coulson, “but when I destroyed its container… you gave it another one.”

 

“Ward.” The Director said quietly, finally seeming to understand the seriousness of the situation.

 

“I saw him, in the castle – I took one last look back and he was right there.” Fitz said, stepping forward and confronting Coulson.

 

After a few long moments of silence the Director finally replied slowly, “Even if you’re right, it’s not _him_.”

 

“No,” Fitz answered him, “It’s worse.”

 

Coulson slumped against one of the lab desks, exhaustion seeming to overcome him, “How could it be worse?”

 

“It has his memories, it will remember what Ward said, did, thought – all of it… and if there is any part of Ward left in It that thing will never leave us alone – not after what you did to Ward, and what I did…” Fitz trailed off and looked around him.

 

“How can you know all that?” Coulson asked, his words echoing Jemma’s thoughts. Somewhere in the dark recesses of her mind she had begun to form an explanation – perhaps it was the psychic link with Fitz everyone always talked about – but she pushed it away.

 

“Because the thing you shot, the man I shot four times and burned alive – that was what was left of Will…” Fitz spat out distantly and Jemma felt her knees buckle – somebody caught her and tried to take her away from the monitor but she fought back as desperate to find out what happened as she was to run away. Her own emotional shift was mirrored in Fitz whose anger seemed to return, “He remembered me from a bloody photo Jemma showed him, he remembered her; what she said, what she did – he remembered everything! I promised her! I got him to the portal and the whole time I had no idea he was dead the whole damned time, that I was talking with _It_! Her bloody tormentor – and you brought _It_ back!”

 

Jemma watched through blurred eyes as Fitz’s anger finally overcame him and he lunged at Coulson, the latter failing to push him off with only one hand. In a heartbeat everybody left the server room towards the Lab and she found herself alone, barely able to work out what was happening on the screen in front of her as Daisy and Mack pulled the two apart. She could make out Coulson standing but Fitz was still on the floor apparently dazed. It was only when Bobbi dragged her fully upright and shouted “Jemma we need you now,” that she realised something was, if it were possible, even more wrong. Her mind kept circling back to the rasping in his voice – he was _hurt_.

 

Even in her emotionally compromised state her medical mind took in the sight of him before her and immediately began noting the worrying number of untreated lacerations and bruises across Fitz’s chest and stomach. She vaguely recalled that he’d pulled away from her sharply when she tried to clean him up herself on the plane and she had just assumed he was given a full medical the moment they had touched down; evidently he had not been. She marked three broken ribs and four further fractures and suspected that one of his lungs was either heavily bruised or, more likely, filling with fluid. The alcohol she now realised had been for the pain as much as to cope with what he had seen and done over there – the thought of which made her stomach churn further than what she saw before her.

 

Outside of the ringing in her ears she could make out Coulson desperately trying to explain to her that he hadn’t done this, and she knew of course he was right – most likely he’d punched one of Fitz’s ribs but had beforehand, like the rest of them, no idea the poor state he was in. Whatever else had passed between Coulson and Fitz could wait; she paid him no attention as the unconscious form of her best friend, her partner – her past, present and future was loaded onto a stretcher and prepped for immediate surgery. She was just about to begin the procedure to drain his lung herself when she took one last look at him and felt her knees finally give way fully. It was too much. It was all too much. She passed out.

 

It would be many hours before they both woke up in medical - in the nine minutes between when Jemma and Fitz came round she knew with certainty that they would pull through this as they had all else before, together.


	2. Both Feet In

It had been almost a week since Fitz was admitted to medical and despite the initial progress in patching his lung, his condition had worsened substantially. Whether it was exposure to foreign elements in the atmosphere on the other planet or the long term effects of sleep deprivation and the worryingly low immune system he seemed to have developed Simmons couldn’t say but whatever was causing his relapse was stopping his lung fully healing. In what seemed like an echo of the distant past, Simmons found herself once again making tea alone while he slept in the medical bay. She was exhausted; she had busied herself with Fitz’s condition since his collapse and hadn’t yet spoken of what he said to Coulson with anybody – nobody had. She suspected he had figured out that she knew but he was still so weak she wouldn’t push him to talk, not that she knew what she would say even if she could. Mostly when he was awake she just held his hand to let him know she was there, she did that when he was asleep too.

 

Jemma was absently aware that while she was fighting to fix Fitz’s injuries Daisy was continuing the search he started on Ward but as of yet either they had found nothing or nobody wanted to tell her if they had – she honestly didn’t care, the only thing that mattered was Fitz. Whether Ward was back or not was unimportant – as was whether he had been spotted, she believed Fitz fully; if he was right (and he usually was) that Ward was now the host then they were unlikely to pick up his image from the cameras – Ward the man had managed to avoid them for over a year after all. Fitz’s words from England came back to her again – she knew exactly what it meant to be on a world without him, and she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to do it again either. Pressing her mug to her lips she grimaced as she realised that the tea had gone cold before she could drink it.

 

“Jemma?” Daisy’s voice was soft as she spoke, clearly trying to strike a balance between showing she cared and not being too oppressive. Simmons sighed, she had been treated like glass ever since she got back but after her torture it had been even more unbearable.

 

“Hm?” She answered idly, pouring her cold tea down the industrial sinks in the Playground and making her way to the kettle to brew up a new pot.

 

“How is he?” Daisy asked cautiously, making her way to one of the cupboards home to _stronger_ drinks than tea. It wasn’t that Jemma was unhappy to see her, it was just she was bone weary and didn’t particularly want to see anybody just yet.

 

“He’s stable again…” Jemma started clinically but found herself unable to continue any further in her detached, medical description, the memory of the tubes coming from his lung making her feel sick.

 

“And how are you?” Daisy pushed, pouring herself a glass of amber liquid and offering the bottle to Simmons, who refused politely.

 

“Honestly?” She answered, finally meeting her friend’s gaze fully.

 

“Honestly.” Daisy affirmed, shooting her a small smile to let her know it was okay, that she didn’t have to be so terribly British about everything just this once.

 

“I can’t lose him,” Simmons said in little more than a whisper.

 

“Hey,” Daisy tilted her head slightly and tried to catch Simmons eye, “It’s Fitz; he’ll pull through – he’s a lot tougher than he looks.”

 

Jemma’s lips twitched upwards softly as she thought on his strength, her expression hardened as she spoke though. “I cannot even begin to fathom what Fitz went through over there… When I saw It – the Inhuman – I was in the middle of the storm,” she began quietly, unaware that the kettle had boiled behind her and tears had begun rolling down her cheeks, “I will never forget the sheer terror I felt as it came towards me… and Fitz… The idea of him anywhere near that monster let alone talking with it – _fighting_ it…” Her voice broke as she remembered the injuries to Fitz’s chest and imagined the beating he must’ve endured, “he shouldn’t have gone – he should’ve let them kill me.”

 

Despite the seriousness of what she had said Daisy laughed, when Jemma shot her a look that asked what exactly about Fitz fighting off Death incarnate her colleague found humorous Daisy answered with a tight lipped smile, “Jemma, Fitz was never going to let them kill you – none of us would have but him especially; not if he had even the slightest chance of stopping it. He loves you.”

 

“He can’t. Not now. And he shouldn’t.” She shot back quickly and coldly, she didn’t deserve the kind of happiness he could offer, “the only thing I’ve done is get him hurt – I dragged him into the field: his aphasia, to spend months searching and then find out about Will, _this_ … he should hate me. How could he not?” The insecurity in her voice broke through as she realised that despite all his words about coming back to her, in the three days before he collapsed they barely spoke two words to each other – he promised to bring back Will, so that he could finally move on from her. “He has to hate me.”

 

“Jemma you didn’t see him when you were gone – even after… when we gave up on you,” Daisy said, shame lacing her words, “Fitz went through hell to find you – we were only supposed to send a probe across the portal and he just jumped right through it.”

 

“He crossed without doing proper atmospheric tests?” Simmons asked in surprise, her scientific mind screaming at her the stupidity of such a move and the desperation that must’ve been behind it.

 

“You didn’t know?” Daisy’s brow furrowed in confusion as though she assumed Jemma had been told this before.

 

“Nobody really talked about what happened while I was… gone,” she admitted, thinking back on the way the team had pretty much left her alone that first week back and how she’d had to try and piece everything together on her own. “Especially not him.”

 

“Oh, erm… Fitz, well – he changed,” Daisy said quite nervously, clearly unsure as to how much of the past she should drag up.

 

“So did a lot of things,” Simmons quietly cut in, pointedly looking at Daisy as she did so.

 

“Yeah but Fitz _really_ changed – and I’m not just talking about him abandoning cardigans or forgetting how to use a razor,” Daisy half-smiled back, Jemma didn’t know whether to be affronted at the idea she hadn’t noticed Fitz’s quite physical changes over the time she was off-Earth until her friend continued with gravity, “Finding you was the only thing that mattered, he was like a man possessed – the second I opened the portal he sort of just jumped.”

 

“He said he would,” Jemma mumbled to herself as she remembered how adamantly he told her the reason he didn’t jump from the BUS was because he couldn’t get the parachute straps on. She hadn’t quite believed him back then but now…

 

“When he went through I didn’t think I’d ever see him again, I honestly didn’t know how long I could keep it held open,” Daisy continued, her eyes unfocussed as she presumably replayed the image in her mind, “But really, we had lost him the moment we lost you; I don’t know everything about what he did to try and get you back but I do know we had to wrestle him away from the Monolith after he blew through the containment locks with a shotgun.”

 

Simmons felt her heart quickening at the thought and held the counter for support at the image of Fitz throwing himself at the stone; to have the thing that had taken her so close he could touch it yet be unable to get her back must have driven him mad – it would have done her if things were inverted. She tried to concentrate on what Daisy said over the thudding of her pulse in her inner ear, swallowing back the bile at the back of her throat as she took in the lengths her Leo had gone to in an effort to try and save her. With every word Daisy spoke her own voice said quietly that it would have been better if he hadn’t tried, he should have left her on that planet, he should have left her under the ocean. He was better, stronger and almost as smart without her in his life. While she would never wish away her years with Fitz for anything - he had been the best thing that happened to her - she found herself wishing that they had never met, that Fitz had never had to have suffered everything he had suffered on her account. She wondered what he would be doing now if not for her, whether he’d be happy with someone worthy of him rather than fighting to breathe for the second time around.

 

“He even went alone to Morocco to get information on the portal off of known terrorists – Coulson didn’t know he had left the base let alone the continent.” Daisy continued seemingly oblivious to how her words were affecting Jemma. “Apparently he tricked them, disguised concussion grenades as splinter bombs and…”

 

“Why are you telling me this?” She practically shouted, her loud voice followed immediately by a shocked silence across the kitchen. Jemma’s whole body trembled from exhaustion and exertion, she had never felt so bone weary and she hadn’t even begun to deal with what had transpired on the other planet with Will yet, or Ward’s return. When Daisy finally spoke, her words were well chosen and tone measured.

 

“I am telling you this so that you understand what Fitz was willing to do to have even the faintest shadow of a chance at getting you back; he had no way of knowing what was on the other side of that portal wouldn’t kill him and he still chose to dive through it. I know you think you don’t deserve it, you probably think he should’ve saved the oxygen for himself under the ocean,” she stopped as Simmons’ eyes narrowed warningly at the mention of the pod, although the general story was common knowledge, it was the first time anyone had mentioned details aloud in such a direct manner, “maybe you even think he’s changed his mind after everything with Will… But you didn’t see him when you were gone…”

 

“He has to hate me.” Jemma stated again coldly the words that had become her mantra, barely able to stop herself from sobbing and trying desperately to end the conversation quicker. “He has to.” She whispered. “He’s lying there right now after everything he’s given up for me and I can’t even patch his lung.”

 

“Jemma, hey…” Daisy pulled her into a hug moments before Simmons fully burst into tears, weak gasps wracking her chest up and down in strangled pants. “It’ll be okay.”

 

“How can you say that?” Jemma asked tearfully, fear, grief and guilt melding into fire in her heart, “Even if he survives this you heard him – _he_ killed Will... the Inhuman in Ward’s head, with Ward’s thoughts: _It_ will never stop hunting us.”

 

“Then we kill It, Fitz already did it once we can do it again,” Daisy said with conviction strong enough that Jemma almost believed her, “Let’s see that monster survive a splinter bomb… and if you think about it, we get to kill Ward again – which can only be a good thing.” She added as a joke and Simmons hiccupped in reply.

 

“Oh God.” Simmons said suddenly, the idea of Ward’s sadistic mind having Will’s old memories dawning on her for the first time.

 

“What?” Daisy asked sincerely, loosening their embrace to look at Jemma.

 

“Fitz said it had Will’s memories,” She answered in a cold statement of fact, when Daisy didn’t follow she shot her a pleading look. “Please don’t make me say it.”

 

“Oh… _Oh…”_ Daisy said in her awkward-come-endearing manner, for just a moment it felt like two friends mundanely gossiping and the bone crushing heaviness of the last six months fell away, “You and Will? You…”

 

“We didn’t have sex,” Simmons told her quickly, it was true after all – there was no birth protection on the other planet and even when she gave up all hope she wasn’t stupid, she was – in fact – a certified genius. “But we were… _close_.” She hoped Daisy wouldn’t press for details beyond that, she wasn’t sure how much she wanted to share about her time on the other planet; the guilt she felt about Will and everything else still threatened to swallow her whole – she had used him to feel something, anything at all after she said goodbye to her future with Fitz.

 

“Ugh,” Daisy groaned and, when Simmons looked at her affronted, her friend quickly clarified, “Not that… I just thought - if what Fitz said is true, the Inhuman in Ward’s twisted head – I’m not sure what it’ll remember more, me kissing or shooting him.” She scrunched up her nose in disgust and impossibly the two laughed, sharing in a glorious stolen moment where everything felt less serious… but Fitz was still in the other room, the Inhuman was a very real danger, and the moment faded.

 

“I should get back.” Simmons said, her thoughts turning back to Fitz and feeling guilty for having laughed while he was laid up in medical.

 

“Do you love him?” Daisy asked as Jemma made to leave, when Simmons flinched at the question and showed no signs of intending to answer it Daisy continued, “You kept saying that Fitz can’t love you, but do you love him?”

 

The silence between them was deafening as the words rang through Jemma’s head – there was no way of quantifying just how she felt for her Leo; the man that dove through a hole in the universe for her… _twice_. The feeling of joy rivalled only by the feelings of fear, hurt and guilt swelling around her threatening to burst through every part of her skin until she was nothing at the idea of a thousand futures with him – a precious few where she dares hope they’ll be happy and everything she wanted for them comes true but far more numerous are the others where he grows to hate her for what she’s done to him, where she can’t give him the happiness he could give her or worst of all where she’s utterly alone and he’s left her or dead. “He can’t love me.” She repeated to herself as she tried to blot the impossible tempest of poisonous hope and self-hate at her own future, he deserved better than she could give him.

 

“Jemma.” Daisy said flatly, her voice taking on a serious tone as she pressed in on the issue, finally forcing Simmons to commit to one answer. Jemma had always thought when the time came she would have this conversation with Fitz first but she knew, on some level she’d always known the answer. Of course she did, how could she not?

 

“Yes.” She answered so quietly Daisy almost missed it, “…Enough to let him go.” She finished with a sigh of sheer weariness, she’d finally admitted it, and only 10 years too late.

 

“Then what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Daisy scolded her with such force Jemma almost jumped in surprise, “I have watched him give up everything for you again and again – he loves you, Jemma. So if there’s a chance that you can make this work then take it; put everything else behind and jump in with both feet.” Daisy seemed to stand up straighter as she finally spoke her mind, not dodging around the issue or treating Simmons like she could break at any moment, “He is fighting right now just to breathe… give him something to fight for. Pour everything you’ve got into making it work – your time, your energy, your _love_. Pour it all in and hope that it will be enough, that you’ll both be happy.”

 

“Daisy.” Jemma breathed out, taken aback by her friend’s sudden and direct outburst. It took her a few moments to finally blurt out, “What if it doesn’t work?”

 

“You sure that’s what you’re afraid of?” Daisy shot back, eyes narrowed.

 

 “What do you mean?” She asked, genuinely confused. It had been six months since anyone who wasn’t torturing her had treated her so ordinarily that it had genuinely caught her off guard.

 

“You’re not worried that it won’t work out, you’re worried that it will.” Daisy aptly surmised making Jemma wonder how, in the six months she’d been gone and the couple of months she’d been back, she had failed to notice her friend turn into an expert on relationships. “You said it yourself Jemma, you still think it’s all your fault – that he shouldn’t love you.”

 

“Daisy…” Jemma started, though she had no words to follow – she was just looking for a way out of the conversation, her eyes darted to the door of their own accord.

 

“Just promise me you’ll talk to him.” Daisy pleaded, sensing Jemma was looking to bolt, “Please.”

 

Jemma paused for a long moment and then simply answered with a tight lipped, “Okay,” before striding to the door and walking to medical, drying her wet cheeks on the sleeve of Fitz’s hoody and putting as much distance between her and the kitchen as she could. When she brought herself round to Fitz’s bedside she was surprised to find him awake.

 

“Hi Fitz,” She said softly, threading her hand through his hair – she had to admit, as much as she loved the more serious cut he’d taken to, she missed his curls.

 

“Hey yourself,” he grumbled back to her, clearly quite groggy from medication.

 

“How’re you feeling?” She asked softly, glimpsing quickly to his vitals when she thought he wouldn’t notice.

 

“Like I’ve got something on my chest,” He deadpanned and then looked down at the tubes in his lung and laughed dryly, “Oh wait.” Jemma smiled, he’d been making the same joke every time she asked.

 

“You said that before,” she teased lightly, slumping into the chair next to him and holding his hand automatically.

 

“I know…” He grinned at her, “But you smiled last time too.”

 

Jemma stared into his eyes for a moment, into the eyes of the man she loved. “I was just talking to Daisy.”

 

“Yeah, what’d she say?” He slurred as he tried to shift but felt the tubes pull uncomfortably.

 

“She asked me if I loved you.” She admitted and watched as he stilled beside her, suddenly focussed. “I told her I did.”

 

“Jemma…” He breathed out and the look she received from him was a mixture of adoration and fear, as though he were afraid of letting himself hope – perhaps their psychic link was stronger than she thought. When she smiled at him to let him know she meant every word she said his brow furrowed and jaw clenched as he rasped out coldly, “but you should hate me, you have to – after _Will_ and…” When he started coughing she stood up and felt his forehead, checking his temperature and the monitor by his bed.

 

“Shhh…” She said trying to stop him from exerting himself too much, “I could never hate you Fitz… I love you, I think… I think I always have.” Despite the utterly unromantic circumstances of his rather compromised position she found herself oddly shy, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear and wishing she wasn’t just wearing an old hoody and no makeup. “What happened with Will… we can talk about that when your better Fitz, all of it – as much as we need to but it doesn’t change the way I feel about you. I love you Leo.” She leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, one he immediately ghosted back but grunted in pain as she withdrew and he tried to follow.

 

“Good,” He grunted as he sank back into his pillow and sleep started to claim him, “because I love you too Jem… always have too.”

 

The following morning his vitals were markedly improved… he was out of medical within a week and moved straight into Simmons’ room, ostensibly so she could keep an eye on his condition during the night. In a base full of superspies, nobody believed that for a second – and they were right not to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody for their lovely comments last chapter - I didn't reply to them because any spare time was spent writing this but they all meant so so much and gave me the encouragement to add another couple of scenes. A lot of this was more experimental compared to what I usually write so please let me know what you thought, I really hope you enjoyed it :) I'm not too sure how I'd even follow this on from here so this is probably the end, but then again I didn't think I was going to write this chapter. Thanks again to everybody for reading and reviewing, you're all awesome :) (May have stolen a tad of inspiration from You, Me and The Apocalypse with one of Daisy's moments)

**Author's Note:**

> Although it's originally meant as a one shot - would people be interested in a followup chapter where Fitz and Simmons talk it out? It only occurred to me at the end that they don't actually have any proper dialogue. As ever, please let me know what you think :)


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